Forging New Bonds
by Meta-Akira
Summary: He wanted to be cut loose, to fly using his own power. He refused to be neglected any longer. He'll make sure no one forgets him again. Success is his goal, though his methods are a bit unorthodox. But it's going to be a difficult journey. -All Human AU, rated T for some dark themes, eventual Yatori
1. Prologue Part 1- Hunger

It was completely quiet in the dark house.

With a practiced ease, a small pair of hands gently unlatched the back door and slid it open as noiselessly as possible. Inching himself out of a slight gap, a dark-haired boy oh-so carefully slid the door shut again. He stayed frozen in place, hands raised in front of him, waiting several seconds in complete stillness, as if he were facing down an angry snake rather than a sliding door. But as time snailed past, it seemed as though he had not alerted anyone to his actions.

The young boy turned to face the rather small backyard with just a hint of a smile on his young face. The sun was out on this summer day, and the sky was clear. He had wanted so badly to be out of that dark and shuttered house, and here was his chance.

He couldn't be loud, though, that much was for certain. If he raised just the slightest amount of ruckus, Father would find out. And then he'd be dragged back inside and punished for disobeying the Number One Rule.

Sky blue eyes shone excitedly, practically eating in the scenery before him. The backyard was sparse with overgrown patches of grass, and a wood slatted fence barred him from wandering, but this tantalizing glimpse of the outside world was as wide open as the ocean to him.

Dirty bare feet slapping against the bare ground, he picked up a stick lying in a thicket of weeds. He grabbed it in both hands, wielding it before him like a katana before using it to slice at a waist-high knot of grass. His imaginary foe didn't stand a chance against his downpour of attacks. He turned and swiped at the air and then stabbed downwards into the dirt.

Finally, he yanked the stick back upwards and spun around to take down his final enemy. An exhilarated _"ha!"_ escaped his throat in the midst of his pretending.

Immediately, he dropped the stick, clapping both hands over his mouth. A mortified pair of bright blue eyes swept over to the back door, waiting in anticipation for the door to come flying open and Father to come marching out. His heart thudded rapidly against his thin chest.

It felt like hours passed before he slowly released his clamp-like grip on his mouth. Relief flooded through his small system when it looked like his slip-up had gone unheard. If Father had found out…

He shook his head silently and picked up the discarded stick. This time, he vied for just scratching about in the dirt, making crude stick figures. One for him. One for Hiiro. A taller one for Father. He carefully etched a smile on all three faces. Sighing, he brought his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, staring at the childish stick figures with something akin to longing in his eyes.

He sat there for a while, losing track of time. He was startled when his gut shattered the silence, growling voraciously. He had come out here to try and forget how hungry he was, but his empty stomach only ached more. Father wasn't going to be giving him food any time soon. The small boy cast his gaze around the small backyard, looking for anything he might be able to eat. He looked doubtfully at the grass and remembered a time when Hiiro scolded him by saying that people couldn't eat grass. It didn't make it any less tempting. He tugged a blade free and experimentally nibbled on it. He made a face and dropped the strand of grass.

Still clutching the stick, he stood up, combing over the yard for anything to assuage his malnourished stomach. As he debated on whether trying to catch some ants would be worth it, a spot of dark red- almost brown - caught his attention. Curious, he drew closer.

A cherry lay on the ground, half eaten by ants and long past the point when anyone else would even consider it edible.

The boy didn't care. He merely recognized it as food, and plucked the woebegone cherry from the dirt and shoved it, scurrying ants and all, into his mouth.

He winced, not even bothering to chew the rancid-tasting fruit and swallowed it and its pit as quickly as possible. The dark haired child shuddered, a terrible sour aftertaste staining his mouth and throat.

But the question occurred to him. Where had that cherry come from? Glancing up, he saw a glimpse of a lush green branch just barely overhanging the wooden fence. Bunched along the tender leaves dangled bright red little fruits. By the dozens! Blue eyes widened at the delicacy hanging so close, yet far out of his reach.

Struck by sudden determination, the boy placed his hands flat on the fence and looked for a way up. Hunger drowned out the part of him that feared his Father's retribution for breaking his Number One Rule. Never leave the house. Technically, he already broke it, but leaving the yard was practically leaping into shark-infested waters.

At this point, the only thing that mattered to him was the prospect of food. Tossing his stick over the fence, he jumped up as high as he could, fingers finding purchase in between the rough wooden slats. He struggled up over the tall fence, wincing as some splinters dug into his skin. Bruises hidden under his baggy clothing stung and smarted under the exertion. He wriggled and squirmed and heaved his small body onto the top of the fence, but overshot it, and with a yelp of surprise, he fell to the ground in a heap.

His sides were on fire, bruises protesting sharply. Groaning slightly, he rubbed his head and pushed himself to his feet before scrambling for his stick. He glanced around wildly, just in case he would be attacked. By what, he had no idea, he just knew he broke his Father's Number One Rule, and expected monsters and demons to come flying at him, ready to drag him away for his misdeeds.

But again, only silence followed, and he slowly allowed his thin shoulders to relax. He blinked, suddenly realizing that this yard looked so much different than the one he'd just come from.

A nice carpet of soft grass, trimmed and neat covered the small area. To one side lay a house- not shuttered up and dark like Father's- but bright and cheerful, with windows open to let in the summer breeze. And in the center was a cherry tree. It wasn't enormous by any means, but its sloped branches were still out of the boy's reach, plump cherries swaying enticingly.

Mouth watering, he ran to the base of the tree and began to scramble up. He was not used to climbing trees, and slipped down, earning a nasty scrape on his elbow and knees, but he was not about to give up. It took the boy several more tries, but he eventually managed to fight tooth and nail onto the lowest-hanging branch.

Hand trembling, he plucked the nearest hanging fruit and held it at eye level, staring at it. It was a much healthier shade of dark red, no ants or cloying smell attached to it. It gleamed fat and ripe in his palm, and he bit down into it.

Flavor and a shock of pain burst into his mouth. He'd bitten down on something hard, and quickly fished out the small pit within the cherry. He frowned at it, but his moment of irritation was quickly replaced by the taste of a fresh cherry blooming over his tongue. Sky blue eyes widening, he abandoned all hesitation and started grabbing fistfuls of the small fruits. He crammed them into his mouth, juice dripping from his chin.

He didn't care that he occasionally chomped down on the rock-hard pit, it was delicious, and it was everywhere! His stomach demanded more of the stuff.

He had to bring some of this back for Hiiro! She had to taste it! Father had never given them something as good as this.

His small hands reached for yet another bunch as he stood precariously on the branch, reaching upwards, a bright smile on his gaunt face.

" _What do you think you're doing?!"_

 **(~)  
**

 **What is it with me and starting new projects lately? Probably had something to do with the finale of Noragami's second season. Merry Christmas, in the meantime!**

 **I'm working on fleshing out an All Human!Noragami AU. No gods, no Regalia, everyone living human lives. I am still working on how certain characters will fit into this plan, but quite a few fell into place extremely easily.**

 **Just note that while it will reflect some of the canon plot and timeline, things will be changed about, alternate characterizations will occur, and of course, everything is being brought to a more mundane level.**

 **In the future, it will be a Yatori fic, but there will be plenty besides romance, and I still have a few chapters of the prologue to write out first before we can begin to scratch that surface. Enjoy!**

 **-Akira**


	2. Prologue Part 2- Concern

The blissful calm was shattered to pieces by a sharp voice like a whip. He recoiled, hands gripping the cherries so tight that their juices ran down his wrists and stained his skin red. Instinctively, he moved backwards, away from the direction of the voice. His mind raced with only images of Father, belt in hand and fury in his terrifying eyes. Severely shaken, he forgot where he was standing, and his small feet slipped off the branch.

Seeing dark starbursts dancing across his vision, he found himself flat on his back as his lungs seemed to be going through spasms. He struggled to gasp for breath. He wasn't familiar with the phrase 'getting the wind knocked out of you', but if he heard it, he would instantly understand.

"Are you alright?"

He barely heard the voice, too focused on trying to breathe properly again as well as the screaming aches that were wracking his body. It was only when the question was repeated that he finally was able to gulp down precious oxygen and look over at the source.

A young woman with long brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail was hurrying towards him, a pair of brown eyes flashing in alarm. She knelt down next to him, and suddenly, he was filled with panic.

"What were you _thinking_?" The woman scolded sharply, and he could recognize one of the emotions in her voice as anger. He was familiar with anger. She reached towards him with both hands, and his blood ran cold. He envisioned the hands slapping him across the face, gripping tightly around his neck, wrenching at his hair.

He flung himself away until he felt the bark of the cherry tree against his back, his sticky hands flying up to shield his face. His eyes clenched shut, afraid to see what she would do to him next. He heard her let out a noise of surprise.

"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you!"

The anger was still present, but it was muted now, smothered by something else he did not quite recognize.

The woman stared at him, seeing the scrapes along his elbow and knees and the dirt and grass stains that had gotten smudged across his skin from his fall. The way he curled in on himself made it quite clear he was terrified of her.

Carefully, the woman slowly moved closer. She saw him flinch with each step she took, even though her paces were feather-light. He had exceptional hearing. She knelt down before him.

"You do not have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. I'm sorry for scaring you like that."

He stayed frozen for several moments, before his stiffened posture slowly started to melt away. He squinted one eye open, and the woman caught sight of sky blue, peering at her warily. She offered him a small smile, but concern was clear across her face.

 _Concern…_

Blinking, his arms began to drop, and a hint of curiosity glinted in his still-wary eyes.

"There, that's better," she said, her face taking on a more serious tone. "Now. Why were you picking cherries in my yard?"

He looked away guiltily, fear of retribution rising again in his face. He didn't even have to answer, as his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. She let out a small amused sigh.

"Hungry, I see," she commented, noting how he suddenly looked embarrassed by his stomach's betrayal. "I suppose that's understandable. However!"

He was afraid again, flinching and looking up at her with wide eyes.

"You should not steal food. Or anything for that matter. Stealing is wrong. If you want something, you must ask for it first. Understand?"

He blinked owlishly at her, surprise blooming on his face. Unable to think of any other way to respond to her demand, he nodded. She smiled again, her stern brown eyes softening.

"Good. Now you stay right there. I'll be right back."

Smoothing out the wrinkles in her long skirt, she stood and made her way back to the house, leaving him on his own in the yard. Once again, fear crept into his heart, and his pulse came quicker. She must be going to get Father. She had to be. She was just making sure he didn't try to run, and now she was going to tell Father and it wouldn't matter that she didn't hit him. He shrank in on himself, trying to hide within his baggy old clothing. A shiver ran down his spine.

As he heard the door slide open again, his head snapped around, expecting to see Father marching towards him with a murderous glint in his eyes. He wasn't expecting to see the woman return unaccompanied. He stared at her as she returned to where she had been sitting before, setting down a white box and a bowl of water. He gave her a questioning look.

"Let's get those nasty scrapes of yours cleaned up, okay?"

A clean rag was dipped into the water and rubbed gently across his knees. He hissed slightly as the dirt, grass stains, and blood were washed away by the cool rag. He found himself relaxing slightly, watching the woman work on his knees. A few sprays of antiseptic and a couple adhesive bandages later, and his kneecaps were stinging significantly less than they had been before.

She held her hand out and he stared at her. Seconds passed and she smiled. "Let me see your arm, and I'll get that patched up for you, too."

Hesitantly, the boy reached out his arm and she grabbed it, gently twisting it so she could get to his elbow. She attended the wound and wiped the cherry juice off his hands. He winced as the rag passed over one of the splinters and she frowned, taking a closer look at his palm. Tsk-ing, she rummaged in the white box and produced a pair of tweezers. It twinged and stung, but eventually, she got the splinters out of his hands and placed a bandage on the worst one.

"There," she said, leaning back and admiring her handiwork. "All better."

The boy pulled his hands back and looked over himself, gently prodding the spots where the patch jobs were done.

"So what is your name?"

In the middle of examining his left knee, her question caught him off guard. He pursed his lips, clamping his mouth shut and shook his head. Father told him to never talk to strangers. That was Rule Number Two. He already broke Rule Number One, and he couldn't let himself get into even more trouble.

But…

The lady was nice. Nicer than Hiiro, even. She didn't hit him, and she helped his scrapes, and she didn't tell Father. And she smiled at him, too.

Reaching a decision, he got to his feet and went to grab the discarded stick he'd brought along. He wasn't going to break Rule Number Two, but he could try something else.

Scurrying back to his place by the tree, he started carefully scratching Japanese characters in the dirt.

夜卜

"Ya… to? Your name is Yato?"

The boy blinked, glancing back at the slightly messy characters in the dirt. He frowned, about to shake his head and try to correct her, when the woman reached out and took his small hand in hers. She smiled warmly at him.

"It is nice to meet you, Yato-kun. I am Tamanone Sakura. You can call me Sakura-san, if you'd like."

In his utter astonishment at the gentle look the lady had on her face, he unintentionally broke Rule Number Two.

"Sakura… san…"

 **(~)**

 **Didn't think I'd update this again so soon, but here have part two of the prologue. Some of you may not know Sakura, in which case read the mangaaaaa.**  
 **By proxy, even though there's not outright manga spoilers, there are some spoilery things in the prologue here, so just a fair warning.**

 **Hopefully I'll be able to update again soonish.**

 **-Akira**


	3. Prologue Part 3- Butterfly

"Yaboku."

He whirled around, having just carefully closed the sliding door behind him as quietly as possible. The child stared, wild-eyed at whomever had caught him on his return from his little stint outside.

The nervous energy pooling and tightening in his muscles relaxed as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Hiiro."

The petite girl, white as a ghost in the dim lighting within the house, stared at him with large, dark eyes framed under short, equally-dark hair. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and though she tried to look stern, the boy was experienced enough with what fear looked like to recognize it in her face.

The girl glanced around her, double-checking to make sure they were alone and out of earshot.

"Father told us not to go outside," she whispered urgently. "When he finds out, he'll be sure to punish you for breaking-"

"-his Number One Rule," Yaboku finished with a cringe. "But he won't if he doesn't find out, right?"

Hiiro stared at him. Like most times, he was unable to figure out what thoughts were going through her head. He felt like his muscles were coiling up tight again, like a spring. The feeling of being cornered was washing over him in waves as the boy gritted his teeth, waiting for her to respond.

It hadn't been the first time that he'd asked her to cover for him for something. There had been multiple times when he'd snuck food- for the both of them, of course- or did something else Father had always told him not to. _Please don't tell_ , he'd plead her. He was never sure whether she did, but more often than not, Father seemed to find out anyways, and Yaboku would receive the back of Father's hand across his face as retribution. But that was always better than whenever Father was angry enough to use the old staff he had propped against his bedroom wall.

After what felt like hours, Hiiro's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Father will likely find out even without me telling him," she replied, her dark eyes resting at his side. He glanced down to see the bandages on his palm from where the lady- Sakura- had removed the splinters from earlier.

"Where did you get those?"

The hissing whisper of her voice sounded much louder than it was. It was softly accusing, and Yaboku knew exactly why. Father never treated his injuries. That was a task that Hiiro did, often because he fumbled too much with the bandages when he tried to cover his own scrapes and bruises.

The two of them were close. When you only knew two people, and one of them was Father, you were much more likely to latch onto the other person. He was told Hiiro was his sister, and she was his only friend and confidante. He'd never kept a secret from her, but as he was about to say something about the cherry tree, and Sakura, and her kind smile, he found himself swallowing the words. Something within him held back.

"I-I fell," he mumbled, his sky blue eyes flicking down to the floor. "B-before I went outside. I fixed them myself…"

Her staring eyes said she didn't believe him. But the pale girl said nothing further, turning to move away from the door.

"You are lucky Father was napping, Yaboku." She finally said. "Don't disobey him again."

What she clearly meant was that she would not be covering for him next time. It sent a chill down the young boy's spine. He'd never felt afraid of Hiiro before, but for a moment, she had this unnerving aura around her that was far too similar to Father's.

He tried. The small child really did try to follow Father's rules. He shouldn't push his luck, it was mere chance that Father didn't find out about him breaking his important rules.

But as a few days passed and he found his stomach aching for food once again, his sky blue eyes were fixated on the sliding door separating him from the outside. Not only that, but a pair of soft brown eyes and a warm smile just piqued his curiosity more than he could bear. Hiiro wasn't around. Father was sleeping again after a late night of work.

With just another second of lingering hesitation, he opened the door.

The first time, he just decided to sit under the cherry tree, looking a bit lost and out of place. It was only when he saw her peer through the window that the child relaxed. She came outside moments later and sat near him. She greeted him, asked if he wanted some cherries again. He nodded shyly, and she chuckled and went into the house to retrieve a bowl full of the succulent berries.

Between sticky mouthfuls of fruit, he didn't say much, but Sakura did most of the talking. She spoke about a variety of things. She learned quickly that he didn't want to answer questions about himself unless it was small things he could reply to with a nod or a shake of his head. Other than that, she rarely could coax out verbal replies from the dark-haired child.

The fourth time went the same way. He waited under the tree, she saw him and came out, and spent a few minutes speaking to him as he ate fistfuls of cherries out of a bowl.

"Do you like flowers, Yato-kun?"

He paused, mid-chew, and looked at her questioningly. After a moment's pause, he shrugged his thin shoulders.

"I love flowers," she replied after his noncommittal response, leaning her head back to look up at the tree they sat under. "You know, during the spring, before all the cherries arrive, this tree is covered with pink flowers. And then, when the wind blows, all the petals fall down like snow."

He stays quiet, trying to imagine the tree covered in pink instead of green and dots of red.

"You've seen that before, haven't you, Yato-kun?"

He looked back at the ground, almost feeling ashamed for not believing her, and he shook his head. She fell silent, and he didn't see the look of concern on her face.

The silence is uncomfortable for once, and the small boy tries to cast his attention elsewhere.

Suddenly, he spots a flash of color, fluttering like a falling leaf. Eyes widening, his gaze latches onto the delicate fanning of bright orange spattered with flecks of black. He's on his feet, following the source of the color dizzyingly through the yard. He hears Sakura's gentle laugh as he stares intently at the floating object.

"Do you like butterflies, Yato-kun?"

He doesn't even bother to answer her as he tracks the butterfly with his eyes and mirrors its direction with his body. It alights on a blade of grass, but it hovers out of reach when he approaches. Again and again, it moves out of his grasp, but the child is surprisingly patient and he chooses to wait. All the while, the brown-eyed woman watches in amusement.

It flutters down again, idly opening and closing its jewel-bright wings. He pads closer, slowly, silently. His eyes are unusually intense. He gets so close he swears he could touch it.

Finally, his hands snap out, and instead of cupping the insect as Sakura had been anticipating, His fingers harshly yank the fragile, paper-thin wings from the helpless, wriggling body.

She looks on in horror, even as the child turns around with a proud smile on his beaming face. He is holding the mangled and crumpled wings out to her- _a present for her_ , he thinks happily- but his smile fades as he sees the look on her face. A mix of revulsion, shock, and anger is what is facing him.

" _Yato-kun, no_!"

The wings are smacked out of his offering hands, and it suddenly stung far more than when Father would strike him far harder for him being disgraceful.

"What are you _doing_ , Yato-kun! You can't just kill an innocent creature like that! Why would you do something like that?"

But he's already running, leaping, scrambling over the fence, fear telling him to flee this confusing and painful bunch of emotions. Even as he hears her call for him in a softer tone, he does not listen and lands in his yard, hurrying to the door to close himself away from the world for a while.

 **(~)**

 **I am having fun drawing parallels to canon and this AU. I'm sure the manga-readers may know what event this mirrors.**

 **There is going to be one chapter after this to wrap up the prologue, then we can delve into the main story. Sorry if this is taking so long, but I wanted to build the foundation as much as possible without relying heavily on flashbacks. ;v;**

 **Later!**

 **-Akira**


End file.
